The Intervention of Sherlock Holmes
by Vipula Sharma
Summary: Sherlock was hurt. Hurt? Huh! What a bunch of lies! Sherlock Holmes never gets hurt, or that's what he thinks. Too bad for him his friends don't think the same and neither does the woman who broke his heart. It is my first ever attempt at fanfiction. I hope you guys enjoy reading it as much as I enjoy writing it. P.S: The story has major Adlock shipping.
1. Chapter 1

Episode 1

Sherlock knew he was doing it wrong. His hands were shaking and his lips were trembling. Maybe, it was too much, maybe the technique was wrong but he didn't care. Not now. Not when she was not here. Who the hell does she think she is? Sherlock thought.

These days this was all he could think about. That woman. And to think the great Sherlock Holmes almost fell into her trap. Huh! This was Sherlock's last thought before he was consumed by the dark.

'Wake up. For god's sakes, wake up.'

John? This sounded like John's voice, but wait, how is John here? Wait. Where am I? Sherlock cracked his right eye open, not that he was conscious of which eye to open, but this is what he did, unconsciously of course. He saw John, his dear friend looking down at him. He didn't seem too happy. Just notice how his lips are a thin line, and how hard his face is. He is quite handsome, and he knows it too. Well! Everyone should know their strengths. Sherlock kept on thinking this while slowly opening his left eye, this time conscious of his friend's anger.

'What the hell do you think you are doing?', John yelled.

'Oh! For heaven sakes, John do shut up. Can't you see I am sleeping?', Sherlock replied.

'Sleeping? Huh! Sleeping? Do you even know where you were last night?', John was getting angrier by the moment. This man, I thought he was sad but he is too far gone now. I have to alert Mycroft. John thought.

'Where?' Sherlock questioned while trying to get up from what felt like a very strange bed. Oh, look! Silk. Wait, silk? It was like Sherlock got an electric shock, he sprang out the bed and looked around. Really looked around and realized that he had gone too far this time. Looking over at his now little confused but still very angry friend, Sherlock asked, 'How did you find me?'

'Well, you were constantly messaging me. So it was quite easy actually.'

'How? What did I write? Never mind I will look myself. Let's get out of here. I will puke if we are to stay even one more minute at this place.'

'Well, then you better get ready to puke a lot because we are not leaving till I find some answers.' John replied.

'Answers to what?', Sherlock asked irritated. But before Sherlock could pouch John into leaving John left the room. Sherlock followed behind like a lost, confused and now irritated puppy.

Reaching the living room, he saw Mary. And before he could say anything Mary said, 'Yes, even I am here Sherlock.' And this time Sherlock noticed she did not smile. And sitting beside Mary he saw Molly. Molly? And this time Sherlock exclaimed, 'Oh god! Even Molly Cooper is here. What is this? Some kind of intervention?'

'If you were not so miserable Sherlock, I would kill you myself.' Seethed John. But something struck to Sherlock. Miserable? Sherlock Holmes was many things but he was not miserable. Never miserable. Because being miserable meant you cared too much which according to Sherlock was the biggest sin. Okay, now he really needed to know what he did last night.

Sherlock waited for them start. Just by looking at their faces he understood that he must have done something really beyond him this time. Well, had he murdered someone? That is very improbable. Sherlock does not kill, yes he enjoys planning murders but actually killing people, no that is not it. If not murder then what? Okay, considering he was sitting in her living room, he must..

'Okay Sherlock, why were you in Irene Adler's house, in her bedroom?', John interrupted Sherlock's thoughts. Irene Adler. The woman. The only woman who could beat Sherlock Holmes. It felt so different hearing her name out loud after so many months.

'I don't know. Must be a case. Seriously, it is not something we should discuss. It is not something serious. I think we should move past this.', Sherlock replied hastily. Ready to stop this conversation and go home.

'No. Nobody is moving till we figure out exactly what is wrong with you.' This time it was Mary who spoke so determinedly.

'It is not a big deal. I have done far worse things in the past for cases. This is something unusual.'

'Not unusual? Not unusual. DO YOU EVEN KNOW WHAT YOU TEXTED ME LAST NIGHT?', John was yelling at the top of his lungs. This got Sherlock's attention. Yes, what had he texted him last night? Sherlock mused. He was about to look for his phone when John started reading his texts.

'I don't think I can ever forget how she looked that night. John is something wrong with me. - SH'

'I am thinking of her constantly. It is so disgusting. I am getting disgusted by myself. John, what if she was right? Please respond. - SH'

'Oh! Don't read them out loud. You are ruining it.' Sherlock whined. But this didn't stop John. then he played a video where Sherlock saw himself laying on Irene's bed and inhaling the silk and muttering how he thinks she was right. This was enough. As if it couldn't get any more embarrassing. Now, even Molly Hooper knew his feelings toward the woman.

'Wish to see more? Still, think it not a big deal?', John challenged.

Sherlock did not want to see any more of this. So he decided it was time he actually shut up and listened to his friends and Molly Hooper, who was almost teary-eyed. Oh god, woman! Love is disgusting. He knew this now. Look at what it made him do. Look at how low he had come. And look at Molly Hooper, crying over him. Love was a disgusting thing.

Sherlock mentally promised himself that enough was enough. He would stop loving, no it wasn't love. He would stop whatever he was feeling towards the woman this instant. But he didn't how difficult it would be.


	2. Episode 2

'Sherlock, I am asking you again. Why were you in her bedroom? Fucking bedroom? And need I say that you were high?', John was yelling again. A pulse was throbbing in his neck, Sherlock was concerned that if John got any more angry it might burst. To pacify him a little, for his own safety, Sherlock thought he should start speaking.

'I don't know. I wanted to forget, so I smoked. Only a little. I honestly don't remember how and when I got here.' This ought to pacify him. Confessing he wanted to forget, would keep them busy for a while.  
Because he did remember why he was here. Very explicitly. But to confess would be his greatest embarrassment. And anyone who knew Sherlock Holmes knew he never liked to be embarrassed. So, he kept his mouth shut and continued pacifying the situation.

'I honestly don't know what you were thinking. What if someone was here? What if someone Russian or Chinese gangster would have robbed you? We all know the connections Adler had to the underworld. This was reckless and dangerous. We didn't even know where you were for the better part of the night.' Mary said concerned.

Now, even Sherlock could not remember where he was and what had he done before making love to the woman's bed. This was turning out to be a case in itself. Sherlock looked around. The living room was as clean as she had left it that night. Suddenly an image of her flashed in Sherlock's mind. She was wearing his bathrobe, her hair wet and wavy rested on her shoulders. She was smiling down at him.

'Sherlock? Sherlock? Stop musing.' John brought him back to present.

This needs to stop. I can not keep thinking of her. She is gone, her chapter must end here. Sherlock thought to himself.

Oh! John was saying something to him. 'I asked, why were you in her bedroom?'

'And I already told you it must be a case. At this point, all this talk about last night is becoming redundant. You are just embarrassing yourselves now, repeatedly talking about it.'

'Is it so? Then why don't you explain where were you last night and what "case" you keep referring to?' John asked again.

'It was ah...it was about the lady who had her babies stolen, and then they turned up at her gate the very next day but somehow they were different.'

'So, you mean to say that Irene Adler is now trafficking babies? Is that so? Mary inquired.

'You never know what that woman was doing. She had her hands in a lot of shit. We can not really rule out the possibilities.' Sherlock replied very nonchalantly. Pretending it was not all made up and hoping the audience would buy it.

'Again, let me get this straight. The fact that you were lying on her bed, quoting Pablo Neruda, is not because you are in love with her but because you happen to investigate a case where you happen to think of her as a suspect?'

'Look, John, I do not know who this Pablo Neruda is that you speak of but yes, of course, I was investigating a case.'

'Alright, what about the texts then?' chipped in Molly. Who had stopped crying and now looked the most terrifying of them all.

Ah! Molly Hooper. Pertaining to the little details. What a tiresome morning! Sherlock thought.

'Texts? What texts?' Sherlock tried to pull a classic Sherlock move.  
'Now, do you want us to read the rest of them?', threatened Mary.

Sherlock always admired Mary and her quick wit but at this precise time, if someone asked him what he wanted, his answer would be a dumb Mary. Because John, for all his doctor skills, was not as gifted when it came to wit and detective skills.

'Thank you, Mary!' Sherlock replied with his most sarcastic smile yet. 'The texts are nothing, an experiment you see. For if one day I really mess up, I wanted to prepare you people and of course, see how you would react. You guys did a splendid job, congratulations. Let's leave. I am done here.' And Sherlock left to retrieve his phone and leave this house for good.

'Can you believe this guy?' John was in a strange space between shocked and angry. Mary was just amused by Sherlock's quick refusal and Molly, well Molly smelled something fishy.

Therefore, it was on this day that Mary Watson and Molly Hooper decided that they would uncover the truth of Sherlock's feelings and get Sherlock to confess. But both were oblivious to each other's plan or the outcome would have been much more fun.

That night Sherlock had a strange dream. Now, Sherlock had had strange dreams nearly all his life, especially since the woman left but this dream was different because he had never before touched the woman in any of his dreams. He had screamed at her, cried for her, and even once saw her naked but usually, the dreams ended with him waking up with a weird erection or John's shouts. This time it was all very different. Maybe it was the aftermath of Sherlock's embarrassing lovemaking to the woman's bed, but whatever it was Sherlock was left shocked. And that ladies and gentlemen was something because the great Sherlock Holmes is never shocked, except for that one time, but that story is for later. For now, let's get back to the weird dream.

As the narrator of this dream, I must admit it is not for children. So, please proceed on your own risk. It all starts in the middle, as all weird dreams do. Sherlock sitting in a room full of bright red roses. As he looks up, he sees a mirror right in front and he notices he is naked. Beside him lies a woman, Sherlock's heart starts beating until he realizes the naked woman lying beside him is not the woman, but she is familiar. Then comes a startling recollection of the bright red hair, the woman is Molly Hooper.

Suddenly, the door slams open and the woman, the woman woman, comes barging in. She is dressed in his bathrobe, hair all wet and wavy but she is angry. 'How dare you?' she says. Too calmy for someone who is so angry. Sherlock is very scared. For what, he does not understand.

'I did not know, it was not you.' Sherlock replies. In a voice which is too strange and not his.

'You didn't know? You slept with someone and you don't know who that was?' comes a reply in a voice which sounds like his but wait, isn't it the woman saying this.  
No, wait, the room starts spinning, and Sherlock's sees the woman in the bed which he knew to be Molly is actually the woman, Irene Adler and the man sitting beside her is not him but rather some stranger. And now he realizes, it is him who has barged into the room and it is Alder who has slept with someone else. Rage fills Sherlock like he has never experienced before. He walks towards the bed, she is smiling, Sherlock snatches her out of bed and kisses her. So hard, he has never kissed anyone like that before.

Before he knows, she is pulling him to the bed. In his head, he is thinking he should be mad at her but continues to kiss her and being pulled to the bed. And then her hand reaches his erection and Sherlock wakes up with a shock.

For a second, he doesn't realize where he is. He half hopes to fall back to sleep and finish the dream and the other half of him hopes never to sleep ever in his life. He looks down at the sheets and sees he has dirtied them. Which is also a first for Sherlock Holmes.

Standing up from the bed, there is only one thought in his head, that he needs to stop obsessing over her or actually, two thoughts. The other one being he needs to find her and fuck her hard.


End file.
